Office hour with Prof Beav 2.0

by Prof Beav

Dear Professor Beav,

How do I make a move on the person I like a lot and I’m like 90% sure likes me back? He keeps complimenting my outfits and being generally flirty and things, but I’m very nervous about making the first move as we’re good friends and he might not actually reciprocate my feelings. Also I’m generally kind of anxious so feel like I need to be at least two pints in to bring it up – please help!

Romantic Pumpkin

Dear Romantic Pumpkin, 

This is such an exciting question, I squealed when I saw it. Is there anything more adorable than a ‘will they, won’t they’ unspoken fondness? It’s all so very dramatic and delicious – I love it! 

Now, I know nothing about you, or this guy, so I’m afraid I can’t offer any specific advice. Drinks-based suggestions, alcoholic or otherwise, are always a safe bet for a casual and conversational date. The benefit of such a low-key invitation is that you can choose to frame it as ambiguously or directly as you like. A coffee date can easily become a platonic hunt for a caffeine fix. A drinks date could become pints with a mate. 

As for the task of asking, I am a fiend for late evening texting people about plans I would like to make with them. In fact, a text invite to coffee, made after one pink G&T too many, is exactly how your Professor landed their last relationship. Note that alcohol is not a requirement for move-making, but it certainly helped!

Having met on the tragic night of the 2019 election results, I soon developed a fondness for the messy, ketamine-fuelled character we shall refer to here as B. We began to study together, playing board games in our department common room and generally having a good time. Until the realisation struck me: I was starting to think he was… fit. Fuck.

But much like you and your boy, our friendship suited me just fine! And anyway, he was totally out of my league. It didn’t help that a good friend of both of ours told me that he had a type. A type that I did not, could not, fit. Well, Pumpkin, things could have ended there. But that wouldn’t make a very good story, would it? 

So, I decided to shoot my shot. What was the worst that could happen? We’re all grown ups. After all, you always regret the decisions you didn’t make, right? Typing under the table at Penderel’s Oak whilst out with friends, I constructed my message. “Hey. Wanna go for a coffee sometime?” Fucking genius. Drunk me had constructed just the perfect message, I’m sure of it. What you want to do is extend a hand, such a casual and relaxed one, that you can hide behind the ambiguity it offers. Sure, it could be a date. But you could also just be doing a nice thing with a friend. Chef’s kiss.

The next day, I waited anxiously for a reply. 

‘Sounds good. Wednesday?”

AHH! It’s a date! I mean, it’s a plan! Potentially a date? I don’t know, but who cares? We were going to see each other, outside of LSE, just the two of us. And I couldn’t wait. 

The day arrived, and everything went well. We spoke for a couple of hours, and when the shop closed we went to a nearby bar, where we had our first kiss surrounded by a loud crowd of pink-faced Holborn wankers in suits. Later, he wrapped his jacket around my shoulders, and we walked along the river back to my flat.

And that was it, the beginning of a really nice year-long relationship, full of so many lovely experiences that I might never have had if I didn’t send that initial text. So, darling, no matter what you do, you definitely have to do something. If he’s a half decent person, he’ll take it as a compliment. There is nothing to lose – and potentially all to gain. Good luck!


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